A Home At The End Of The World
by GrittyRe-boot
Summary: Futuristic AU: They are two lost souls, braving a post-apocalyptic wasteland in search of a place to call home, surviving on only the scraps of food in their bags, the clothes on their backs, and the love for each other that they refuse to let die.
1. Prologue

**Alas I'm continuing my multiple stories at a time trend, along with my dark theme trend. I think it's the impending graduation of our favorite gleeks that's putting me in this sad fanfic mood, that and I'm reading _The Road_ and _The Walking Dead_ at the same time, add that to the fact that I'm already an angst whore and you can kind of see where my head's at right now. So anyway, post apocalyptic Finchel, because why the hell not at this point?**

It was her or the house, it wasn't even a question. They were outnumbered, outgunned, they would have done anything to her to get that house. They may have been good people once, they probably were. Bad people would have killed them both without hesitation, but they let them both go quietly, not even requesting a "visit" with her beforehand. He wouldn't have let them hurt her, he would have died before letting them hurt her, but the house they could have. They knew that it was only a matter of time before they were forced to leave the home they built together before the world turned to ash, it was an inevitability, it was a constantly looming threat that kept them from ever getting too comfortable. He didn't sleep most nights, electing to lie awake, the gun wrapped tightly in his hand as she slept beneath him, his body blanketing her, protecting her, making her warm. She's always cold these days, she was thin before, short, tiny, like a pixie in love with a giant, but she's too skinny now, frighteningly so. He's thin too, he knows it, but he isn't fragile like she is, not yet.

He wishes it were summer, he wishes that they would have held off a little longer to uproot them, but they had always anticipated it happening in the winter, that's when people started to get desperate. Still, he knows that she's getting weaker, sicker, and the cold will only make things worse. It didn't help that they could only take what they could carry in their packs. Their guns, ammo, cans of food, water, matches, blankets, a compass, a map, his radio, batteries, the last two items could just as accurately be described as false hope, but she won't let him give up, she believes with all her heart that someone is out there, someone they can reach somewhere. He loves that about her, he loves that she never stops trying, even when there's no reason to try anymore, but as long as she's here he'll try too.

She sleeps now, underneath him like always, his body and the fire helping stave off the cold, still he can feel her shiver as he slides his hand under her coat, touching her skin. He pulls the blankets tighter around them, covering her face and he shuts his eyes. The gun is close, close enough for him to grab if he needs to, but he has to sleep now. He stopped being a heavy sleeper the first time someone tried to steal their house, but he needs to close his eyes for awhile at least. They've walked all day, walked for miles, they don't know for sure whether things will be safer in the cities, there were rumors that Washington spent years preparing for a disaster of this magnitude, but it was only when they had a home where they could be safe for awhile that she could accept them as only rumors. Things were different now, there wasn't as much to lose anymore. She insisted that if there is even the slightest hope for food, shelter and protection then they need to go after it. He didn't argue. His only purpose in life now is keeping her safe and the closest thing to happy in a world gone to hell. He'll go with her to Washington, but he won't let her kill herself getting there.

The fire dies late into the night and he can feel the chill on his face. He doesn't want to leave the bit of warmth the blankets and her tiny body are providing him, but if he doesn't relight the fire soon the cold will overwhelm them both anyway. He tries not to wake her as he gets up, no such luck. She stirs the instant he moves away.

"Finn," she says groggily, her voice sounding so small and faraway.

"I'm right here baby," he says gently. "I'm always right here."

"What are you doing?"

"Relighting the fire, I don't want you to get cold."

"Do you need help?"

"No, just go back to sleep sweetheart, it'll only take a minute." She closes her eyes as he piles dry sticks and bark onto the campfire, they were hard to come by in this weather but he managed to gather enough for the night. He finishes piling the wood and lights it, poking at the resulting flames to aggravate them. He builds a decent enough fire in not too much time, before his fingers go completely numb at least, and he joins her under the covers once more, wrapping them both tight in the blankets.

"Finn," she says, still quiet.

"Yeah Rach?"

"Do you think it's really there, the shelter?"

"I don't know babe, I really don't know," he says, sighing a little. It isn't the first time she's asked but she's never sounded so desperate for it to be true before. "I hope so."

She shifts a little and the blanket slips down past her small hand. He reaches for it, grabbing it in his, his large hand enveloping hers completely, it's ice cold. He hopes one day she'll never have to be cold again.

"I think it is," she finally says. "I think it's real."

He hopes she's right.

**Stay Tuned Folks.**


	2. My City's In Ruins

**For anyone reading Holly Golightly, fear not, it will be updated tomorrow, until then enjoy this chapter.**

_**Five Years Earlier**_

_She watches the news constantly, sitting in front of the TV like a stone, her eyes wide with worry, clutching her mouth in fear. He wishes she wouldn't do this to herself, how many doomsday scares have their been during their short lives? Y2K, 2012, he knows that this is just another one of those things that the media is blowing completely out of proportion. He's nobody's idea of a skeptic, but thinking the end of the world would happen in his lifetime seemed a bit arrogant, the thought that life couldn't possibly go on without him just wasn't a belief he subscribed to, but Rachel, as kind and good as she was always did hold herself in rather high esteem. If anyone was going to legitimately believe that the world would end with them it would be her._

_"Come on babe, let's go for a walk, It'll get your mind off things," he say, giving her shoulders a firm rub. It's to no avail, she's so rigid and tense he fears she might break. "Or maybe a drive into the city?" he suggests._

_"How could you think about taking a drive right now Finn?" she says, tears brimming in her eyes. "People are dropping dead overseas, for no reason, young people, younger than us. They're just dying without any explanation. Doesn't that scare you?"_

_"Of course, but you can't worry about things you can't control."_

_"I'm sure you wouldn't be so nonchalant about this if it were happening here," she scoffs._

_"But it's not," he reasons._

_"But what if it does? What if it happened to me? What would you do then? Would you just write it off as something you couldn't control?"_

_"Rachel-_

_"What would you do?" she says, more firmly, cutting him off._

_"I don't want to think about you dying okay!" he snaps. "I can't think about that. Now can we please just take a walk, It will make you feel better, I promise."_

_"I don't want to go for a walk Finn I just want to watch this," she says, reaching for his hand and pulling him down toward her. "Can you please just sit with me?"_

_"Rachel-_

_"Please Finn," she's crying, she gets so emotional over this type of thing, and it makes him feel like crap, so he obliges, sitting next to her and taking her into his arms, rubbing her back and feeling her tension melt away even as she watches the horror onscreen._

_"We'll be okay Rach, I promise," he whispers softly into her hair. "I would never let anything like that happen to you, ever."_

_"What if it's like you said, what if you can't control it?" she says tearfully._

_"All I know is that you're safe here, you're safe with me, no matter what."_

_She snuggles in closer to him, letting him wrap his arms tighter around her. "I love you Finn."_

_"I love you too sweetheart."_

* * *

><p>The city is six miles away, their old home away from home. He knows she wants to see it, see what's come of it since the outbreak. He doesn't want her to, it will only make things worse for her to see what's left of her beloved city, and there's always the underlying threat of more of the living coming after them, trying to take their food, their weapons, his Rachel. These days you could walk for one hundred miles without ever coming across another person, but the risk still feels too great, especially in an area once so densely populated. She argues that they may be able to find more supplies, food, weapons, medicine if they need it, maybe even a place indoors to stay for the night. He knows the real reason, he can see it in her face, she misses it. He makes her promise to stay close and move fast, to hide if he tells her to hide, run if he tells her to run and shoot if he tells her to shoot. She promises and he reluctantly agrees.<p>

It's warmer today, the sun is out, peeking through the clouds and casting a bright glow on the beautiful face of his lover. They eat together in silence, a shared can of beans warmed over the fire, and they contemplate the day ahead. They both know that everyone fled the cities when the outbreak first started but whether they all left or whether some of them drifted back or not remains to be seen. After their paltry meal he melts some gathered snow in a pot, warming the water that results and soaking the small towel carried in his pack. She removes her clothes and stays close to the fire, and his heart sinks a little at the sight of her naked body, mere skin and bones now. Excuse or not he hopes she's right about there being food in the city, they both need to eat more, he knows it, but she's the only one he's worried about, she insists she's fine, but he knows better. He makes her stop more than she wants to, it irritates her, but she doesn't fight him too much, either because she doesn't want him to worry or because she just doesn't want to admit how much she wants to rest too.

She sighs in pleasure as he bathes her, the warm water feels good on her skin. He wipes it away with the dry towel immediately, not wanting the cold air to freeze the water on her. She looks at him the whole time, right in the eye as he washes the grime from her body, running the towel over her thin shoulders, her flat stomach, the small curves of her breasts, until she's all clean. She puts her layers of clothes back on then does the same for him and when they're both clean and dressed they gather their things and begin their travels once more.

"Do you think Barbra Streisand is still alive?" she says as they walk hand in hand by the side of the road

"Wouldn't she be like 80 by now if she were?" he replies.

"83 to be exact."

"I think she probably went along with the others babe," he says carefully.

"Yeah, but we're still alive, not everyone died Finn, maybe Barbra was one of the immune, and who knows, maybe people as famous as her had resources we didn't have."

"You were famous,"

"I wasn't Barbra famous," she argues.

"Well if she is alive I can't imagine we'll be running into her any time soon."

"Maybe she's in DC with the other survivors, maybe she puts on big concerts for them every weekend. Wouldn't that be amazing?"

He squeezes her hand and smiles at her then, he loves this girl, he really, truly does. "That _would_ be amazing."

"What are you going to do when you get there? What's the first thing?"

"I don't know, I haven't really thought about it," he says. It's not true, he has thought about it, but every time he lets his mind go to that place he forces it on something else, he won't take Rachel's hope away from her, but he's never been like her, he's never been as certain of anything as she is, thinking about that place, allowing himself to believe that it's really out there just makes his heart ache. Hope gives her strength, but the only thing that gives him strength is her, she's the only thing he really believes in anymore. When he thinks back to five years ago, when all this started, he's amazed by how much everything's changed, back then he was the one who was so sure that everything would work out, now he's not sure of anything anymore.

"When I get there I'm going to take the longest, hottest shower ever taken, with actual soap" she says. "I always thought that was such a cliche in those zombie apocalypse movies you used to like, the world crumbles and all anyone can think about is wanting a hot shower, now I finally see what they mean."

"A shower does sound awesome," he agrees. "And a burger, I miss burgers."

"I know what you mean, not so long ago I was a vegan, now I would kill for a fat, bloody steak."

"And pizza, with ham and pineapple," he chimes in.

"And a turkey the size of a buick."

"And a rack of barbecue ribs with meat so tender you could eat it with a plastic spoon." he continues, almost dreamily. "Maybe we should talk about something else."

"Yeah, you're probably right," she agrees.

They're about a mile off and they can see the skyline even more clearly from here, in some ways it looks the same, the same shapes and buildings, but there is a certain eeriness about it that builds the closer they get. There are no sounds of traffic, no images on the electric billboards, just gloom, a ghost town. He looks at her face as they continue to walk towards it, she's pensive, quiet. It's the first time she's seen New York in the last five years. He brushes his thumb over her knuckles as they continue to walk, neither saying a word. It's worse up close, the empty streets, the broken windows, the suffocating quiet, but she doesn't stop, they keep walking into the city that no longer resembles itself.

"Rachel?"

"I'm okay," she says shortly. he nods, not wanting to push it anymore.

They salvage a few things throughout the day, some cans of food from a Walgreens, others from a Ralph's, the labels missing from most of them. He gets a little excited when he finds a can of beefaroni, they find a few boxes of tylenol and some bandages, but no antibiotics, which they both know they may need at some point. It's not much but it will last them awhile if they ration properly. The sun has started to set again once they finish scouring the grocery stores. He feels a little more anxious about being here at night, and he knows that they have to either get out of the city or find a place to stay for the night before they find themselves in total darkness. They continue to walk the empty streets, staying close to each other and keeping their eyes open for any signs of the living. He can't help but wonder if she secretly hopes for it, for some signs of life in a city once so full of it. He can understand why she would, still, other people pose a threat, it's just the way it is now.

He thinks they might be okay, it's been hours without so much as a sound or a voice, they'll crash somewhere tonight, maybe somewhere with an actual matress, and they'll get out of the city in the morning, she doesn't need to be seeing any of this. To tell the truth it upsets him too, He never cared too much for New York City, but seeing it in this state almost brings tears to his eyes, especially seeing places he used to go with Rachel all the time, reduced to ruins. He can only imagine what she must be feeling right now, but he thinks she's kept it together better than he ever would have expected, at least until he continues to walk and finds some resistance on her end, she's stopped.

"What's the matter Rach?" He says, looking back at her, but he doesn't need to wait for his response as he sees it, and as he sees her face at the sight of it.

"Rachel we need to keep moving," he says firmly but sympathetically, it's to no avail, he knows what's coming, and he knew if any place in New York would cause her to break down it would be this one. She isn't loud or hysterical as she falls to her knees and begins to weep bitterly in front of the Gershwin, but seeing her like this breaks his heart all the same.

"Rachel?" He says softly, kneeling down beside her, rubbing her back in wide circles.

"I knew," she says tearfully. "I knew it would all be gone, I just... I wasn't prepared for this."

"I know baby," He says, kissing her hair and holding her close.

"We shouldn't have come here, you were right," she says.

"He _was_ right, you shouldn't have come here."

Finn's blood runs cold at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and the feeling of cold metal pressing against the back of his head. His hands in the air, he turns his head, slowly, so slowly, until he finds himself staring into the face belonging to the voice, belonging to the person holding a gun in his face.

**Stay Tuned Folks.**


	3. Small Miracle

"Don't fucking move, either of you," the man says, swinging the gun back and forth between the two of them. He can't be too much older than they are, but the hardened look in his eyes and the gray around his temples suggest a man aged beyond his years.

He doesn't move, neither does Rachel, they know how this goes, it isn't the first time they've had a gun held in their face.

"I'm Finn Hudson," he says calmly. "This is my wife Rachel, what's your name?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The man says, taking a step forward until the gun is pressed to Finn's forehead. Finn takes a deep breath, his eyes closed for the few seconds it takes him to compose himself.

"What do you want from us?" Rachel says.

"What do you think? I want your bags, both of them."

"This is a big place, I'm sure there are other places you can find supplies,"Rachel reasons.

"Yeah, but this is easier. Now stop running your goddamn mouth and hand the bags over, now, and move very slowly."

"Okay," Finn says, taking his bag from around his shoulders while Rachel does the same. "We don't want any trouble."

At that he grabs both bags, exactly what they were hoping for. There's a reason they always keep their guns on their bodies, they draw them, fixing them on the stranger while his hands are temporarily occupied.

"Come on man, you don't have to do this," The man says, holding his hands up, his face desperate."I'll give them back lets just forget this whole thing okay?"

"Something's not right here," Finn says, knitting his brow in confusion.

"I know he... Rachel doesn't finish as a very surprising sound emits from behind their attacker. The man squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment, and a smirk reaches Finn's lips.

"Oh my god," Rachel beams, lowering her gun, Finn keeps his held on the man but there's no way he's pulling that trigger now. "Can I see it?"

The man lets out a low groan and turns sideways, exposing the baby strapped to his back, it's only then that Finn finally lowers his gun.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Finn says, "What if we would have shot you? That kid would be toast."

"How was I supposed to know you two were packing?" the man says. "When you're desperate you do what you have to."

"Where's his mother?" Rachel says.

"_Her_ mother is upstairs sleeping. We got here last night. We didn't think we'd see anyone," The man explains, "When I saw you from the window I had to take a chance, and I didn't want to leave Beth alone."

"Her name is Beth?" Rachel says sweetly, letting the infant wrap her fist around her finger.

"Yeah, we didn't think women could even have kids anymore, with the virus," He says. "I guess she's kind of a miracle."

"Of course she is," Rachel says, lighting up as the child smiles at her.

"Rachel, you do realize that this guy was holding a gun in our faces just a second ago right?" Finn says.

"It isn't loaded," The man explains. "Honest. Here, you can see for yourself," he continues, pulling the trigger several times, only clicking noises escaping.

"Look, we can forget this ever happened and be on our way, but we need our things," Finn says.

"How about I do you one better?" The man says. "We can give you a place to stay for the night, it's getting dark, you're not going to make it out of the city tonight, and it's a lot warmer up there."

"What do you think Finn?" She says, her eyes still fixated on the baby, he understands the fascination, she always wanted a child of her own. And she hasn't seen a baby in years.

"I don't know Rachel," Finn says uneasily. "What if he tries to kill us in our sleep or something?"

"Come on I'm standing right here," the man protests.

"Finn, would it really be any more dangerous then camping outside in the cold?" She argues. "It would just be for the night, then we can make a fresh start in the morning." He knows that he can't say no to her, not looking into those big hopeful eyes, and he doesn't want her sleeping in the cold again unless they absolutely have to.

"Only if it's okay with your wife," Finn says, caving.

"She's not my wife," the man says, "We didn't even know each other until a couple of years after the outbreak, but I'm sure she'll like the company."

"If we're going to be staying you can at least tell us your name," Finn says.

"Puckerman," He replies, reaching his hand out for Finn to shake. "Noah Puckerman."

The space is tiny, and even more dilapidated than it is on the outside, but it's warm, or at least warmer than it is outdoors, and there is a single mattress in the corner where a young blonde woman sleeps like a fallen tree.

"She hasn't slept well in days," Puckerman whispers over to them, "She'll probably be out for another few hours."

He must have spoken too soon, just then the blonde shoots up in bed, a gun clasped in her hand. "Who are you?" she fumes, shooting her gaze between the the of them, aiming the pistol. "Puck who are these people? What do they want?"

"Calm down Quinn," Puck says gently. "This is Finn and his wife Rachel, they just need somewhere to stay for the night."

"And you decided this without asking me?" Quinn seethes, still pointing the gun.

"I had to, they were going to shoot me," Puck says.

"We weren't going to shoot you, we weren't going to shoot him," Finn argues to Puck, then Quinn.

"Wait, where's Beth?" Quinn says, frantically looking around the room. "Where is she Puck?"

"She's fine, I have her right here," Puck says turning so she can see the baby.

At that she puts the gun down and gets up from the mattress, marching up to him, she takes the baby out of her carrier and holds her close. "Yes baby, mama's here, mama's right here," she coos, bouncing the child in her arms. "God could you be any more of an idiot?" Quinn snaps, turning her attention from the baby in her arms to Puck.

"I saw their bags and I thought they might have medicine," Puck explains. "We looked all over and we didn't find anything, I thought maybe they got the last of it. If Beth gets sick there's nothing we'll be able to do."

"We don't have anything either," Rachel says. "We looked, we barely even found any food."

"How long have you two been traveling?" Quinn says, softening.

"Not long," Rachel says. "After the outbreak we stayed in our house for as long as we could. There were others there too, my parents and his mother, after they died it was only us," she continues sadly.

"You were both immune?" Quinn says. "What are the chances of that?"

"We were the closest thing to lucky we could be during that time," Finn says. "At least until an armed gang forced us out."

"Where are you going now?" Quinn asks.

"We're going to try our luck in DC," Finn says. "We think if there's a base or a shelter somewhere in the country then it has to be there."

"Do you really believe that?" Puck says, a bit bitterly.

"We have to," Rachel says.

"Well, you have a place here tonight, but first thing in the morning you have to move on," Quinn says. "We can't risk our daughter's safety, we'll be here until the end of the winter, and the less people taking up space in this sardine can the better."

"We understand," Finn says. "Thank you."

"We really are eternally grateful," Rachel adds.

"And you and I will have words later," Quinn says, narrowing her eyes at Puck. He only smiles at her, the deepest affection on his face, Finn can understand, even with the shadows of fatigue marring her face and her light green eyes, and what's probably years of grime darkening her haphazardly cropped blonde hair to a dull dishwater color, she's incredibly beautiful.

Later that night they sit around a crackling fire, built in a wastebasket in the center of the floor, eating a small meal, baby Beth sleeps on the mattress while the four adults get to know each other. They've both missed it, being around people their own age, or really just people in general.

"You look very familiar to me," Quinn says to Rachel as she eats. "I mean I'm sure I've never seen you before now but still."

"Oh," Rachel says, embarrassed. "I was an actress, on the stage mostly but I transitioned to movies before... you know."

"That's it," Puck says, a bit excitedly. "You're Rachel Berry."

"I _was_ Rachel Berry," she says. "Now I'm just like anyone else trying to survive. I'm sure I don't even look the same."

"You kind of do," Puck says, narrowing his eyes a little.

"You're still pretty," Finn says, kissing the top of her head, making her smile.

"I have an idea," Puck says. "Why don't you sing something? Like a little spur of the moment concert."

"Oh god," she says burying her face in her hands, feigning embarrassment. "I couldn't, I mean I haven't sang in ages."

"You're such a bad liar," Finn says playfully, nudging her, causing her to roll her eyes and smirk. She sings all the time, it's the only way she can entertain herself anymore.

"Come on, how many people can say they got a personal concert from Rachel Berry?" Quinn says. "But not too loud, we don't want to wake Beth."

"So I guess it's been decided for me," Rachel says.

"Damn straight, sing already girl," Puck says.

"Okay, if you absolutely insist," she says standing up before them.

_Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world _

"Holy crap I love this song," Puck says as she sings, low but clear, beautiful.

_She took the midnight train goin' anywhere _  
><em>Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit <em>  
><em>He took the midnight train goin' anywhere <em>

_A singer in a smokey room _  
><em>A smell of wine and cheap perfume <em>  
><em>For a smile they can share the night <em>  
><em>It goes on and on and on and on<em>

And he sings too, not too loud, the two of them together. Finn always loved to sing with her, almost everything has changed, but not that.

_Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard _  
><em>Their shadows searching in the night <em>  
><em>Streetlights people, living just to find emotion <em>  
><em>Hiding, somewhere in the night. <em>

_Working hard to get my fill, _  
><em>Everybody wants a thrill <em>  
><em>Payin' anything to roll the dice, <em>  
><em>Just one more time <em>  
><em>Some will win, some will lose <em>  
><em>Some were born to sing the blues <em>  
><em>Oh, the movie never ends <em>  
><em>It goes on and on and on and on <em>

_Don't stop believin' _  
><em>Hold on to the feelin' <em>  
><em>Streetlights people <em>

_Don't stop believin' _  
><em>Hold on <em>  
><em>Streetlight people <em>

_Don't stop believin' _  
><em>Hold on to the feelin' <em>  
><em>Streetlights people<em>

"Don't Stop believing?" Quinn says as Rachel finishes, sitting back down. "Interesting choice."

"I guess that song has always sort of meant something to us," she says, shrugging. "Especially now."

"So Finn, what did you do before everything went to shit?" Puck says.

"Actually I read about your wedding in people, you were an orchestra percussionist right? Isn't that how you met?"

"How the hell do you remember that?" Puck says.

"Shh, let him answer," Quinn says.

"Yeah, it was her first show," Finn explains. "_Rock of Ages_. I was in the band."

"Oh, that explains the Journey fascination," Quinn says.

"What about you?" Finn says. "What did you guys do?"

"I was a drama teacher in Connecticut," Quinn answers.

"I was a construction worker in Chicago," Puck chimes in.

"And now we're breaking bread with a real live celebrity, all it took was the world coming to an end," Quinn says, a bit of sadness behind her eyes.

"I like to think the world has a way of bouncing back," Rachel says. "Just look at Beth."

"You're right," Quinn says, smiling fondly at her sleeping child, a new life born in a world of endless death. "She's all that's good in this world."

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	4. The Lonely

**This would have been up yesterday but the site was down. I'm hoping that the changed summary will attract more readers, but if not, thank you to the few that are following this story.**

_It's been two years, two years without a sound or a voice, nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company. She wonders to herself how long it will take her to lose her mind completely, to start talking to the shapes in the walls. Everyone is dead, her parents, her sister, her darling Matt. Matt was the first of them to die. She told him to stay away from the hospital, that it wasn't safe, but Dr. Rutherford had a job to do, and with the world in total chaos he had to do the right thing, at all costs, she both respected and hated him for it, hated him for leaving her. She remembers the last time she saw his face. It was right before he left to assist with an emergency in town, a pileup that claimed dozens of lives before the virus could. There were mass traffic accidents happening all over the world, several times a day, the thing about death taking people without warning was that it didn't matter where you were, whether it was in your bed sleeping soundly or behind the wheel of a car. Matt never made it to the hospital that night. It took him like the others, without warning, without mercy. She waited months for death to come to her, but it never did, now she's not sure what she's waiting for, just a voice maybe, something to let her know that she's not alone, the voices in her head certainly aren't doing the trick. She wonders all the time why she doesn't just kill herself, end it now, so she can see them all again, so she can see Matt again, so the loneliness will finally subside, maybe she's just a masochist, maybe she just hasn't given up hope yet, maybe she should. She gets up from the floor, pacing her room, her arms wrapped around her body, tears in her eyes, threatening to fall at any second. _

"_Please," she says to herself, "Someone, anyone, just answer me, I won't hurt you, I won't try to fight you if you want to hurt me, I just want to hear your voice, anyone's voice, please just answer me." she collapses onto the floor then, sobbing, her arms wrapped around her body, she doesn't know how long she cries._

"_Why are you crying pretty girl?" she looks up then as someone touches her trembling shoulder. She knows that he isn't real, the handsome if somewhat rough-looking man kneeling beside her, his long, disheveled hair partially pulled back from his face in a ponytail, his body cloaked in a filthy trench coat, a gun clasped in his hand, a bag filled with what looks like several cans of food stolen from her kitchen. She didn't hear anyone down there, probably because she was crying too loudly to hear, but most likely because he's just a figment of her imagination._

_She doesn't speak, she just reaches out to touch his face, running her hand over his tanned skin it as if she's afraid it will go right through him._

"_You're not real are you?" she says softly, staring into his tired hazel eyes._

"_Last time I checked I was," He says, tucking the gun into his pants. "Are you here alone?"_

"_Are you going to kill me?" she says as if she isn't even afraid of his answer._

"_No, I'm not going to kill you," he says. "I just wanted your food, you have some good stuff, Progresso soup, Stagg chili, canned peaches, I hit the jackpot. The worst I would do is knock you out if you tried to fight me."_

_She just stares at him, utterly transfixed._

"_Are you okay beautiful?" he says, placing a gentle hand on her hair, and at that she lunges herself at him, crying bitterly, and places kisses all over his stubbly face and chapped lips, holding him tightly as she kisses him, and to tell the truth he's a bit afraid, but he lets it happen, kissing her back, comforting her._

"_Hey, hey, hey, It's alright," he says holding her in his arms and stroking her hair as she cries into his chest, her fists curled into his shirt. "It's okay, I've got you."_

"_Please," she says, "Please don't leave me here" she continues, crying hysterically. "Please take me with you."_

"_Of course" he says hesitantly. "Anything you want, just please don't cry," he continues. "What's your name, can you tell me your name?"_

"_Quinn," she says, almost inaudibly. "Quinn Fabray, what's yours?"_

"_I'm Noah Puckerman," he says still holding her. "But you can call me Puck."_

* * *

><p>It started off so slow, they would hear a news report about five residents at a nursing home dying in their sleep at once and he wouldn't allow them to think anything of it, he couldn't. When she stayed up late watching the news, shaking so hard, it broke his heart, because part of him, and it was a big part, knew that she was right to be afraid, a big part of him was afraid too. He wanted the nightmare to end, he wanted things to go back to normal the way they always did so that him and Rachel could continue living their lives, but when an entire percent of America's population was struck down by the virus in a single day and the living began rioting in the streets, smashing windows in search of medicine that wouldn't work and face masks that wouldn't protect them, he knew that he couldn't afford to be skeptical anymore. The problem was there was nothing he could do, nothing any of them could do but hope not to die.<p>

There were no symptoms, no warning signs, no way out once it hit. You died, plain and simple. It was rumored that a miniscule percentage of the world's citizens carried an immunity gene, but once the word got out about it things only got worse. There were stories about the government snatching people from their homes to study them, hoping to find a cure within their blood, but even if a cure was found it was too little too late. Before long the dead littered the streets and the living were left without hope, without family, without a future. During those terrifying first days he couldn't sleep at all, all he could do was watch her and pray with everything he had inside of him that he wouldn't lose her. He was never a religious man, but praying became the only thing that kept him from breaking down, even if he didn't know who he was praying to in particular. It ended with them, the two of them alone in their house, years of food stocked, their parents buried in back and the two of them, clinging to each other with all of their might even as the world around them crumbled.

Those first days seem so distant now, like a whole other life. It's hard to believe there was a time when he didn't have a care in the world, when Quinn had a comfortable life with a doctor fiancé and likely wouldn't have taken a second glance at a guy like Puck, let alone love him so completely, and Puck's affections were distributed evenly throughout half the female population of Chicago and fatherhood was the furthest thing from his mind, when the world's population numbered in the billions, not hundreds of thousands, when everything made sense.

She shifts next to him, murmuring softly in her sleep and he combs her hair away from her face and lightly kisses her cheek, she's still cold, but not so much that it worries him, the fire seems to be doing the trick. He glances over at Puck and Quinn, asleep on the mattress, the baby between them. Looking at Beth fills his heart with what can only be described as a feeling bittersweet. He knows it must be hard for Rachel, considering what she went through during those first days, before they even knew for sure what was happening. But she seems to be nothing but enchanted by Beth, and it fills him with relief.

"Finn," she whispers groggily.

"Yeah babe?' he replies.

"Do you think it was the virus that killed her?" she whispers softly, trying not to wake them. "Do you think the baby got sick inside of me?"

He swallows hard, not knowing how to answer that right away. It's the first time she's ever asked it, but he knows she's thought about it, because he has too. "I don't know sweetheart, I think it could have been a lot of things," he says carefully. "But I think if we're both immune the baby probably was too."

"But if it wasn't the virus that means we can have another one right? When we get to Washington? When I get better?"

"Is that what you want?" he says carefully.

"I think now is the time to start living again," she says pulling his arms tighter around her. "And creating new life, that's a part of it right? What do you think?"

"Do you really think it's fair though?" he starts. "To bring a child into this world? Where people will kill each other without a second thought over a can of beans?"

She remains silent for longer than he would like and his immediate reaction is to hug her tighter and kiss her hair.

"I love you," he says. "So much, and all I want is to make you happy, you know that."

"No, I get it," she says. "It's not about me, it's about this little boy or girl that is going to have it a lot harder than we ever did growing up…"

"But?" Finn says, goading her on.

"But," Rachel continues. "When the world started it didn't start with a government and skyscrapers and TV and cell phones. It started like this, barren and brutal, and if mankind would have decided then that it was wrong to keep things going, to keep hope alive then we never would have made it as far as we did. Maybe there will be a whole new, better world in our future and our child could help make that happen, that doesn't sound like a bad thing to me Finn."

"You're right," he says. "That sounds like a beautiful thing…"

"But?"

"But I think we shouldn't make this decision now. We don't even know if this place is going to be there Rachel."

"I know Finn, I know that you're skeptical, and I know that you're going along with this mostly for my sake, but I believe with all my heart that it's real. I know it is," he notices that her voice breaks a bit as she talks.

"Hey, look at me," he says, and she obliges, turning in his arms to face him, letting him kiss her long and deep. "Even if I don't entirely believe that this place exists, I believe in you," he whispers against her mouth. "You're the strongest, bravest, smartest person I know, and I'll follow you anywhere, I'll follow you to the end of the earth. I go where you go, no matter what."

"I go where you go too," she says, tucking herself tighter into his embrace.

"Go to sleep now princess, we have a long day ahead of us."

* * *

><p>They know that Quinn feels conflicted about sending them away, they wish she wouldn't, she's right, protecting her daughter is the most important thing, and now that it's daylight they can get out of the city safely.<p>

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Rachel says.

"No, it's safer here, Beth needs to be someplace warm, at least until the winter is over. We'll move on then," Quinn explains, and Rachel nods reluctantly.

"Promise you'll find us if you're ever in Washington okay?" Rachel says, wrapping Quinn in a tight hug.

"We promise," Quinn says, she sounds sincere but Finn can't help but think the look on her face suggests they'll never see each other again. He truly hopes that's not the case.

"Yeah, don't hog all the hot water while you're there," Puck says.

"I won't, honest," Rachel says, hugging Puck.

"Thank you guys," Finn says taking his turn to hug them. "For everything."

"Thank you for not shooting me," Puck replies.

"And you little girl, you better take care of them," Rachel says to the smiling baby in Puck's arms. "They're counting on you." She kisses the baby on the cheek then and it makes Finn's heart ache. She would be such a great mom, the best one in the world.

They make it out of the city before sunset, pilfering through a few more shops and homes along the way, they don't come up with much, bandages here, a few cans of food there, a stack of playing cards, a few books neither of them have heard of, batteries, cold medicine, still no antibiotics. Finn finds a dusty gray cap with a disintegrated tag still attached and puts it on Rachel and Rachel finds the only old shopping cart with all of the wheels still turning, they put their bags in it and push, Rachel can ride in the cart when she gets too tired, as tiny as she is the cart will still accommodate her, even with the bags loaded into it.

They walk late into the night, until they reach the first residential area they can find outside the city. They'll find a place to camp here, they hope there is an empty place to sleep among the dilapidated houses. The area looks deserted, but it's hard to know for sure whether they'll run across anyone dangerous. They got lucky with Puck and Quinn, but Finn knows that they were the exception, not the rule.

"What about that one?" Rachel says pointing her flashlight at a white two story, or at least they think it used to be white but a good deal of the paint is dull and chipped away.

"Let's check it out," he says. "Stay close," he adds unnecessarily, she's always right by his side now. He knocks first, he knows that it's a risk alerting anyone inside that they're there, but it would be a far bigger one to let themselves in without warning. He's shot more than one person who broke into their house without warning during the five years they stayed there. There is no answer, he shines his flashlight through the window next, seeing nothing, no one. It's only then that he feels secure enough to try opening the door.

It's locked, as they suspected, but it isn't hard for Finn to pick the lock open with his dad's old Swiss army knife, they point their flashlights and their guns as they step inside tentatively.

"If there's anyone inside who can hear me, I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to take anything from you. We're just looking for a place to stay for the night," Finn says loud enough for anyone inside to hear.

"I think it's clear," she says, he thinks she's right.

They search the house from top to bottom, for food, for people, for medicine, they don't find any of that, but the only thing they really need for the time being is shelter. There is a bedroom upstairs that locks, and the acoustics seem good enough to hear if anyone wanders in. They think they'll be safe here for the night.

They leave their clothes on as they get under the covers, the better to escape quickly if they have to, but a big part of him wants to undress her, to feel her naked skin against his, to bury himself inside of her body and stay there for hours, their sweat mixing, his love cries harmonizing with hers, their hands touching each others bodies with abandon. Like always he needs her body like he needs oxygen. Clearly she feels the same, the way she's kissing him now, and unbuttoning his heavy coat as she does and shushing him as he halfheartedly tries to protest. They can always put their clothes back on right after.

**A/N: Now that I know who Rachel's dads are it's probably going to be a lot harder to kill them in AU fics, this is the fourth time I've killed one or both of them, it's still not as hard as killing Carole though. One more thing, just so you know, I plan on incorporating a bit of bullshit science into this story toward the end, but seriously, what's a Sci Fi story without a little bullshit science? Anyway, until next time, stay tuned folks!**


	5. Going Forth

**I know I said this would be updated two days ago, but it took me a while to figure out why the site wasn't letting me open certain links, then I finally realized it was my virus protection causing problems and I feel a little silly now. Sorry again for the wait on this, and I hate to be that guy, but I do tend to update faster on stories that receive more comments… just sayin :)**

_He's running, hard and fast as hot tears flow from his eyes, Rachel in his arms. His shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he runs, a million thoughts coursing through his head. With everything happening in the news he was constantly on edge, and seeing her that way, crumpled on the floor, small and pale, blood flowing down her legs, he had to act immediately, he wouldn't be able to get an ambulance fast enough with everything going on, he had to get her there himself. He knows that there aren't supposed to be any symptoms, that you simply die without warning, but maybe this was some sort of new strain threatening to take his Rachel away before he could stop it. He couldn't let this happen, he couldn't lose her, he wouldn't. _

_He gets to the desk, trying to catch his breath long enough to try to explain the last several minutes._

"_M-my wife she… I don't know what happened… she's bleeding," he cries, his voice unsteady and panicked. She's still passed out, and he holds her tighter, closer, as if trying to keep some unseen force from taking her away._

"_Okay Mr. Hudson try to stay calm," the nurse says, trying to come off as soothing, but he can tell that she's overwhelmed, she must be with the car accidents today, two pileups in as many hours had the entire hospital staff frantically trying to save lives, but they would have to make time for Rachel, he would do everything in his power to make sure they did. "How far along is she?" the nurse continues._

"_I don't know what you're talking about," Finn says, still crying._

_She looks thrown and he still doesn't understand what's happening. _

"_Okay Mr. Hudson someone will see your wife very shortly," she says._

"_No, she could be dying, someone needs to see her now," he exclaims desperately._

"_There's been an emergency Mr. Hudso-_

"_This is an emergency!" Finn snaps._

"_Finn… what's happening," Rachel says weakly, coming to. _

"_It's okay baby, everything's going to be okay," he cries. _

"_Is the baby okay?" she says, her voice faraway. Baby? What baby?_

"_Mr. Hudson, we promise your wife will be taken care of," the nurse continues before Finn can take the time to fathom the meaning of Rachel's cryptic words. _

_It doesn't take them long to see Rachel, but it feels like forever and as he waits for them to call him from the waiting room he fears the worst. He still can't understand what she meant by "is the baby okay?" Was she delirious? What did she mean?_

"_Mr. Hudson," his head snaps up at the sound of the doctor's voice and he scrambles up from his chair._

"_What happened?' Finn says. Trying to keep his voice steady._

"_She's okay, she's resting," the doctor says, causing Finn to exhale in relief. "But I'm afraid we weren't able to save the baby."_

_Finn's blood runs cold at the words. "Sh-she was pregnant?" Finn says, understanding, he was so panicked before he didn't even take time to consider that she may have been pregnant, she never said anything about it._

"_About nine weeks," the doctor confirms. "I'm so sorry Mr. Hudson, but if you'd like to take your wife home now she's waiting for you." The doctor leaves then, moving fast, and Finn can't help but think that if this were any other time this would have gone differently, he would have been more comforting, referred them to a grief counselor maybe, but things were different now, a woman losing a baby just wasn't the kind of tragedy that demanded their time or sympathy, and Finn didn't know whether to be offended or scared, the truth is he's both._

_They drive home in silence, neither knowing what to say to make things better. "I was going to tell you on your birthday next week," Rachel says quietly from the passenger's seat, it's the first words she's spoken since they drove away from the hospital. And he looks over at her, her face is the saddest it's ever been and it fills his own heart with sorrow. "I thought, what better gift than to find out you're having a little girl? It was a girl, I just knew it," she says, her voice choked. And he reaches over to take her hand, holding it in his because he doesn't know what else to do._

"_This is my punishment," she continues. "It's my punishment for being so happy even with everything that's been happening," She continues. "I just thought that maybe this baby was a sign that things were going to get better, and for once I didn't feel so afraid anymore. But things are only going to get worse Finn and I don't want to lose you… and oh god I don't want to die," he can't drive anymore, he pulls the car over and unbuckles his seat belt and her own and takes his sobbing wife into his arms, rocking her, kissing her tears away while ignoring his own. Before he would have said anything to make her feel better, to put her mind at ease, but he can't bring himself to now. The virus didn't take Rachel, and he was so relieved, so beyond thankful that he still had her, but that didn't change the fact that it may have taken his baby, the one he didn't even know about until now. He knew that women lost babies for all kinds of reasons, but he just had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that they lost theirs for one reason and one reason alone. It was happening, it was real, and no amount of denial would stop it._

"_I love you," he cries, as they cling to each other so desperately. It's all he can say anymore._

* * *

><p>She's still sleeping when he wakes up, the sun seeping through the window, forcing his eyes open. He rubs his eyes and looks down at her. She was always one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid eyes on, her hair thick and chestnut brown, her lips full and pink, her skin like honey, her eyes like wide saucers. She was still a beauty, but she was so thin, so weary. He loved watching her rest like this, it let him know she felt safe with him. He kisses her hair softly and moves away from her slowly, she's sleeping like a rock, it's the first mattress she's slept on since being forced out of their home, but still she stirs as he moves away, sensing the distance as she sleeps.<p>

"Finn," she says groggily as he heads toward the bathroom.

"Try to get some more sleep princess, I'll be right back," He says as he heads to the bathroom, taking off his heavy layers along the way until he's down to his bare chest and pants, the cold air is a shock to his system, but he feels less stifled for the moment. He stops short in front of the mirror, it's been so long since he's seen his own face, since he's really looked at it. He runs one hand over his pale visage. He was always so handsome, or so he was told, now he doesn't recognize himself anymore. His pale skin has gone even paler in the years past, making his freckles and the dark rings around his eyes stand out strikingly, and five years of trying to conserve as much food as possible has taken it's toll, his cheekbones are hollow and his ribs stick out a little. He rubs the bristly hair on his chin, noticing that it's starting to go gray along with his overgrown hair. He used to dry shave at the house, now he doesn't really see the point anymore. He sighs and rests his hands on the counter, his eyes shut tight as he breathes deep.

"Hey, you doing okay?" he smiles weakly at the sound of her voice, and more as she wraps her arms around him and presses her face between his shoulder blades, kissing him there.

"Yeah," he says, his hand coming up to hold hers.

"It's light out now, maybe we can look around a little better," she says. "Maybe we'll find some fresh clothes."

He turns in her arms to face her and cups her face in his hand staring into her deep brown eyes like he's searching them. His lips quiver and his eyes begin to tear a bit as he looks at her, his brave girl, his reason for living, his only hope in a world without any.

"What's the matter baby?" she says softly, running her fingers softly through his hair. He doesn't answer, without warning he moves in, urgently pressing his lips against hers, making her take a step back. She doesn't hesitate for long before returning the kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck as he pulls her closer. He turns her around and hoists her up onto the counter, parting her thighs with his body as he kisses her and she unbuttons her coat, removing it and putting her arms around him again. He moves away from her lips and plants hot, firm kisses down her chin and neck and touches her, running his hands underneath her loose shirt, and feeling her warm skin and the way she flinches a little at the feel of his cold hands on her body.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, no longer touching her, and at that she takes his big hands in her small ones and brings them up to her mouth, blowing warm air in them a few times, her big eyes still fixed on him as she does, after a few more breaths she takes his hands and places them beneath her shirt once again. They trade soft, loving smiles and kiss again but he needs more, being with Rachel always made him feel so much and last night was no exception, immersing himself in her warmth and feeling her gentle touch and hearing her cry his name, hearing how good he made her feel too, he needs more of that. He lifts her up into his arms as he kisses her and takes her back to the abandoned bedroom laying her down so gently, refusing to tear his mouth away from hers. He forces down his pants as she forces down hers and he crashes into her, pushing himself deep inside, becoming a part of her again, and he's so lucky, he still can't get over how much he owes whoever up there decided to spare Rachel, as cruel and merciless as she or he was in every other respect. He thinks about these last few years, everyone and everything they've both lost, how much of themselves they've lost, and tears begin to run down his face as he makes love to her, rocking against her fragile body with tenderness. This can't happen now, he thinks as he slowly unravels, they aren't close enough yet, he has to stay strong for her. She needs him. He continues to thrust into her, steadily, pushing her over the edge as he comes along with her, and he collapses into her, staying inside as she holds him tight and he cries bitter tears into her neck.

"It's okay sweetheart," she says, holding him, stroking his hair. He doesn't need to tell her what's wrong, she knows that he just needs to let it out before he can keep going. It's been a hard few weeks, right on top of an impossible few years. And he's spent it carrying their pain for the both of them, so she wouldn't have to, but there's time now, time to just fall apart for a little while. "It's okay to cry."

The daylight doesn't change much, the house was probably cleaned out years ago, if not by the original owners then by scavengers like themselves. They take time to bathe and eat first, then they get dressed and ready to brave the outdoors again. They'll cross into New Jersey that day, it will be the first time they'll cross a state line along their journey. They could have passed through Pennsylvania sooner, but Rachel had to see New York City one last time, he was against it at the time but now he's glad they did, otherwise they never would have ran into Puck and Quinn. He just hopes the experience is as positive the next time they come across someone new.

**Stay Tuned Folks!**


	6. Snowed In

**Sorry for the short chapter, especially after having to wait so long for it. Anyway, enjoy and keep your eye open for a new chapter of Holly Golightly either today or tomorrow (most likely today)**

They've been lucky so far with the weather, after descending the mountains it wasn't so much unbearably cold, windy and treacherous as bitter, damp and inconvenient. There have been only a couple of instances of light snowfall in the 30 or so days they've been traveling, but all along they've anticipated the worst. The wind and snow becoming insurmountable was a constantly looming threat that they both prayed would never come to pass while all the while knowing enough about East Coast winters to realize that their prayers would be fruitless. It always seems to start with a single flake of snow, on the nose or the back of the hand, followed by a strong gust of wind whistling through the trees like a warning to get inside immediately. The problem was they were in the middle of nowhere and inside could be miles off for all they knew. Their only option was to pick up speed, keep walking, almost running, no time to rest, only to find a safe place before the blizzard hit. They have to abandon their cart, it won't make it as the snow collects, and the bags are heavy but they have to hold on to them for as long as they can, a lot of the supplies and food inside could very well be irreplaceable.

They pull their caps tight over their ears and pull their coats securely around their bodies as they make their way down the road. The wind is picking up quickly and the snowfall is multiplying by the second and pretty soon they wont be able to see right in front of them.

"What do we do Finn?" Rachel cries, the wind so loud she has to yell it.

"Just keep moving, whatever happens don't stop moving," he yells back, and she obliges, and they run. His fingers and his toes are growing numb and the chill is already radiating through his body, there isn't enough fat on them to protect them and he knows that the only thing that will keep them alive long enough to find shelter is to keep their bodies in motion, even if it feels like it will kill them faster than stopping to rest would. They're close now, at least halfway through Jersey. Now is no time to die.

They've been running for at least fifteen minutes, at least a mile, the snow and wind becoming steadily worse all along but it seems to be doing the trick, he's frozen down to his bones, but it's easy not to focus on it too hard while they so frantically move toward some form of safety.

"Finn," she yells, her voice labored. "I think I see something."

He thinks she's right, it's hard to tell through the heavy snow but he sees shapes up ahead, it looks like some kind of large building, a plant or maybe a farm, definitely not a house, it doesn't matter, it's close, no more than five minutes away if they keep running. He read something once about the body conserving adrenaline for extreme circumstances, that's what he thinks must be happening now. Rachel seems to have it too, she's keeping up in spite of all the strength she's lost over time and he knows they'll probably both collapse in exhaustion once they stop, but they'll be alive.

They reach their destination, upon closer inspection it's an old factory, and as they slow down long enough to find some sort of entrance they know that the cold will catch up to them if they don't find it soon. His hands are already starting to feel warm, hot even, he can't trust it, the heat he's feeling is a sign of the first stages of hypothermia, they have to get inside. The wind continues to whip and it stings his partially exposed face and makes it difficult to see, but he finds it, a door. He digs through his bag, finding his pocket knife after a bit of struggle and takes it to the locked door, but his hands are too frozen to be effective, and he ends up dropping it before he can get it open.

"Stand back Finn," she says, her voice coming out shaking, and she aims her gun at the lock, her hands shaking too, usually he'd tell her to hold off on shooting the lock, since they'd need to lock it themselves to keep out intruders, but the situation has become desperate so he allows it. She shoots the lock once, making only a dent in it, then again, causing the casing to fly off, it's still pretty tightly locked though, he notices as he tries to open the door, but with one more shot the lock explodes and they rush their way in. They aren't sure what the room used to be before, but its stacked to nearly the ceiling with big crates. They can't imagine the contents of them are still in tact, if they are they must not have been particularly useful, otherwise they would have been taken long ago, but now isn't the time to worry about supplies, now is the time to get warm or die. Finn gets behind one of the crates, it's almost as tall as he is, which is saying a lot, with the last remaining bit of adrenaline he pushes the heavy thing against the door, grunting loudly as he slides it. He completes his task, securing the door and wilts against the crate, breathing hard.

"Finn," she says weakly. She doesn't look good, he notices, she's shaking so hard and her lips are turning blue, and before he gets too comfortable he has to remember his one purpose in this world, keep Rachel alive. There are vents in the ceiling and an aluminum trashcan against the corner, he goes for it, hoping to god there's still trash inside, luckily its filled to about halfway with paper and cardboard, he grabs a couple of logs out of his bag, taken from their last stop, an old tavern in Jersey where they spent the night and burned wood in the firepit. He throws the logs in and lights it with his matches, taking a few strikes to light it effectively. The cold is catching up to him fast, too fast, and he knows that he won't be able to stay on his feet for very long. He's right, he collapses just then as Rachel runs to his side in a panic.

"Finn!" She shrieks, hovering over him.

"I'm alright," he says weakly. At that she reaches into her bag and pulls out their blankets, and she begins to unbutton her coat, she takes it off, and takes off her layers underneath too until she's down to her bra, and she gets to work on him next, sitting him up and removing his clothes until he's bare chested. She lays her body on top of his and pulls the blankets over them as the fire burns steadily. They remove the rest of their clothes slowly under the covers and allow their bodies to warm each other as their exhaustion consumes them.

When he wakes up he's still under Rachel, all those nights spent warming her, she's returning the favor. He feels better now, his hands and feet are still cold but at least he can feel them, he looks at his fingers, no frost bite. He looks down at Rachel next, her head on his chest, he can feel her warm breath on him and her arms wrapped around him. He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head, so grateful for her, and he falls asleep again, needing the rest even more than he needs food, when they wake up they'll have beefaroni warmed over the fire, he's been saving it for the right time, he thinks that time is now.

They don't know how long they'll be here, the wind and snow is still going strong, they may have to dig their way out, and even then they aren't sure how they'll manage to walk in the deep snow, they'll figure out something, they always do. They eat, savoring the cherished childhood treat, at this point it tastes like a thick steak and sweet, buttery lobster, and they warm their cold hands on the fire and sing to keep themselves busy. Rachel reads one of the books they found at the Walgreens, it's about a middle aged woman who leaves her husband and ventures to a magical hotel inhabited by fairy tale creatures. She seems to like it. They check the crates, they are filled with sporting goods, they may be able to use the tennis rackets for snow shoes, otherwise it's not much to get excited about, if only there were skis and parkas inside. They sleep some more, Finn starts reading a book about a man who has a breakdown after his wife dies under mysterious circumstances and tries to teach his dog, the only witness to her death, how to talk. It's good, but sad. She flips through a beaten up magazine with the cover missing and she closes it once she gets to an article about her, she looks beautiful in the classy black and white picture alongside it, she's all decked out in a couture ballgown with her thick hair loose and flowing, and she's barefoot on a beach and laughing heartily about something. She doesn't even remember doing that photoshoot, she says, but he remembers, it was her first magazine cover ever and he remembers how excited she was bringing it home, he remembers her showing him the picture and wondering to himself who the hell wears a ballgown on a beach? That life seems so long ago. They sleep again, eat cans of corn and beans, make love by the still burning fire until their cold bodies become sweaty, and fall asleep again.

Two days have passed, or what feels like two days anyway and it has finally gone quiet, the blizzard is over, it's time to continue their journey. He uses a scoop ball racket and a makeshift torch to build a tunnel through the snow and pushes their bags up out of it, both tasks requiring more effort than he would like, but he succeeds and they emerge from the snow, greeting the sun and clear blue sky for the first time in days. He fashions snow shoes out of tennis rackets and twine, a pair for Rachel, a pair for him, and they continue down the road. The next state is Maryland, then DC, they've almost made it, they're almost home.

**Two chapters plus an epilogue to go. Stay tuned folks!**


	7. The Living

Four matches, one can of pork and beans, two cans of creamed corn, half a bottle of Tylenol, three expired condoms (better than nothing), twelve bullets, four AA batteries for the radio, 2 DDD batteries for the flashlight, 10 miles to Washington DC.

It's late and Rachel is so tired that she can barely stand, let alone walk, and Finn's not doing so hot himself, they'll have to find a place to sleep, but if Rachel is right then this will be the last abandoned house they'll have to break into.

"I can't believe we did this," Rachel says, beaming in spite of her exhaustion. "I can't believe we're almost there."

"I can," Finn says. "I knew you were unstoppable from the first moment I met you."

"I thought the first time you met me you thought I was difficult and unpleasant," Rachel teases.

"_And_ unstoppable," he jokes and she nudges him weakly and smiles.

"How about here?" she says, flashing her light at the address, 423 Stinson Place the two and a lot of the letters are gone but the shadows behind them are still there.

"Let's check it out," Finn says. They go forth with their usual routine, alerting whoever might be inside to their presence and shining the light inside before letting themselves in once they're sure that the coast is clear.

"I'm Finn Hudson," he says, pointing his gun as they enter, one foot in front of the other. "Me and my wife are just looking for a place to stay for the night, we're not going to hurt you."

"But how can you be sure that I won't hurt you?" Finn's blood runs cold at the sound of the voice coming out of the shadows, he's tall, almost as tall as him, and broad, a rarity in these times. He holds an oil lamp in one hand and a gun in the other.

"Rachel, stay close," Finn says as he fixes his own gun on him steadily

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the tall man with the lantern says as he sets it down. And at that he hears Rachel yelp behind him. He turns his head and sees another man, he's tall as well, but lankier than his counterpart, with sharp, almost triangular features, and he has Rachel in his grasp, one hand over her mouth and the other holding what looks like her own gun to her temple.

"We don't want any trouble," Finn says, trying to keep his voice calm as they threaten Rachel, this isn't the first time this has happened, he knows how to play it. "We'll leave, just let her go."

"What makes you think we want you to leave?" the lanky man says as he walks Rachel closer to him. "She looks like exactly the kind of girl we want to have around, right Dave?"

"She sure does Sebastian," Dave responds.

"Please," Finn says, and he can hear her pleading behind Sebastian's hand. "Please don't hurt my wife. Just let her go."

"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to do that," Sebastian says. "But hey, you're free to join in, you see, I'm sure you're just the kind of guy Dave here would have been into before the world went to shit, as for me, well anything goes with me, I'm just tired of fucking Dave over here, no offense Dave, you're a beautiful man."

"None taken," Dave says, still fixing the gun on Finn.

"I'm not going to tell you again, let her go," Finn says.

"Or what?" Dave says.

"Or I'll put one between your eyes without a second thought," Finn threatens.

"Really? That's funny," Sebastian says. "And here I thought we had you outgunned two to one, not to mention the fact that I have your girl here in a pretty precarious position, so if I were you I'd behave yourself.

She's still crying, shouting words that can't be heard, and Finn knows that he's not going to be able to bluff his way through this for very much longer, he honestly has no idea what to do.

"Look, we have supplies," Finn says. "You can have whatever you want please just please don't hurt my wife," he says, no longer trying to keep his emotions in check.

"How about this?" Sebastian says. "After we're done with the little one, we'll let her go free, I'm sure once it's over she'll be far too distraught to be much of a threat to us. As for you, well we'll do the Christian thing and just kill you now."

She screams then, so loud and thrashes against Sebastian, who only seems to be amused by her fruitless struggling.

"Listen, you can do anything you want to me, just let her go please," Finn cries.

"Nah, we'd rather have the girl, It's just been so long since we've seen one, I never knew just how tempting they could be," Sebastian says, but how about this, how about I let you say goodbye. At that he shoves Rachel forward, pushing her to the ground, and she scrambles up and wraps her arms around Finn.

"Finn I'm sorry," she sobs. "I didn't see him behind me, I didn't mean to-

"It's okay," he says holding her with his free arm and kissing her hair. "It's going to be alright, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

"Aww how sweet, making promises you can't keep," Dave says taking Rachel by the arm, ripping her away from Finn. "Now enough of that, Sebastian, shoot him."

And the thinner man obliges, pulling the trigger, but not before Rachel can break free from Dave's none too careful grasp and throw herself in the path of the bullet.

He feels like his heart has stopped beating as Rachel, her face shocked as if she can't believe what's happening any more than he can, turns to face him and clutches her wounded stomach. She looks at him, tears in her eyes, as if she's pleading with him, asking him what she should do. He doesn't know, he can't think straight enough to know. She's not on her feet for a second more before she drops to her knees and tumbles to the floor. And Dave must know he's about to snap because he grabs Finn, hard, giving Sebastian enough time to collect himself after shooting Rachel. Because he shot what was probably the only girl either of them had seen in years. He shot Rachel…

He shot Rachel.

"No!" Finn screams, blinded with rage, and he can't exactly explain what happens next, how he struggles out of Dave's tight grasp and smashes an elbow into his nose, he thinks he might have dislocated a shoulder in the process, and he thinks the bullet from the Sebastian's gun may have grazed his arm, he doesn't care as he rushes into him, knocking him into the floor, and wresting the gun from his grasp, he turns once to shoot the larger man in the face in one shot, even though he doesn't even take the time to aim properly, he then turns the gun on Sebastian, pressing it into his forehead.

"You think I care if you shoot me?" Sebastian says, chuckling. "I've already lost everything, I don't even have Dave because of you, not that he was ever really my cup of tea to begin with."

He only presses the gun harder into his forehead, his vision blinded by tears, his heart racing.

"Go ahead if it will make you feel better," Sebastian says, and he's right, it wouldn't make him feel better, nothing will, but just then he notices that Rachel is still alive, he can hear her struggling, choking out his name, and if she's going to stand a chance, this man has to die, so he squeezes the trigger without another word and stumbles up, running to her side.

"Rachel?" He says, his shaking hands cupping her face, her eyes are glazed over and unfocused but she's alive. "Baby, please look at me," he says, his eyes flood with tears that spill over and fall onto Rachel's colorless face, and finally she looks at him.

"Finn," she says weakly, her own hand coming up to touch his mouth, and he kisses her fingers then takes her into his arms, cradling her so gently.

"Just hold on okay?" he cries. "Stay with me."

"Am I, am I going to die?" she says, her voice breaking. She's bleeding all over him and she looks so weak and scared, and he knows that he can't give her the answer either of them wants.

"What?" he says as if the question is ridiculous, even though it's anything but. "Of course not, you're going to be just fine, you're unstoppable remember?" he says, unable to keep his voice still or his tears at bay.

"You're such a bad liar," she says, forcing a smile. And he can't take it anymore, this isn't the way it was supposed to happen, he knew in the back of his mind that they wouldn't make it, but it was his job to be skeptical, it was Rachel's job to be right. She couldn't have been wrong, not Rachel, not his strong, brave, beautiful girl. He squeezes his eyes shut in despair and bends down to kiss her, tasting her blood on his lips.

"I'm so sorry Finn," she cries as he breaks the kiss.

"No, don't be sorry," He says looking at her once again. "Not ever, okay? I'm the one who should be sorry, I failed. I was supposed to keep you safe and I failed."

"No Finn, shh," she insists, touching a finger to his lips. "You did everything you could. I don't ever want you to feel like you failed me, you could never fail me. I'm just sorry it had to end this way. We were so close."

"Rachel," he says, holding her closer, rocking her. "This is right where I want to be, with you, it's the only place I've ever wanted to be."

"What happens now Finn?" she cries, her voice growing weaker, thicker with tears.

"Well," Finn says, trying to keep it together long enough to comfort her, to make her feel the closest thing to happy in her final moments. "You're going to go to a beautiful place, where it's always warm." His voice keeps breaking but he presses on. "And everyone you love will be there, your dads and your friends and our baby girl…" He trails off, trying to find the best way to say what he has to say next. "And me, I'll be there too Rachel."

Her eyes go wide in protest and she shakes her head a little. "No Finn, you can't-"

"Yes, baby, this is it for me," he says seriously, his mind made up. "I go where you go, always. There's nothing left for me here without you. If you die… I want to die too."

She spasms in pain then, making his heart ache. "It hurts Finn."

He knows, because it hurts him too. "I know, I know it does, but you're going to close your eyes, and when you open them you won't hurt anymore. You'll never hurt again," he chokes out.

And at that her eyes flutter closed, she's not dead, just passed out. But he knows that it's only a matter of time, there's no civilization, no people, no hospitals, no way to help her, nothing to do but wait for her to die.

No.

He can't, he can't let it end this way, he has to think of something, anything. He's far too weak to carry her ten miles to DC in time, especially with a dislocated shoulder and a gunshot wound, and even if they do make it there it could be miles and miles before they find a compound or a shelter if there is one there at all. But maybe if he can get in contact with someone, they're only ten miles off, if there's someone there then the radio signal should carry. He knows it's insane but he has to try, he puts Rachel down gently and reaches for the radio in his bag, pressing the button and hoping to god it works.

"Hello, this is Finn Hudson," he says into the radio his voice quavering with anxiety. "We've been traveling for about six weeks now, give or take a few days. If there's anyone out there who can hear me please answer me, please help us. My wife has been shot, she could die if she hasn't already, she needs medical attention… I can't lose her like this, not now, do you read me? If you hear me please, please answer me."

Nothing

"Answer me!" He screams into the radio, losing his final bits of sanity as he looks at Rachel, not moving, barely breathing. "Answer me you son of a bitch! Hello! Hello you worthless piece of shit! Answer me… fucking answer me." he says the last part in a desperate whimper as he drops the radio and collapses over Rachel, crying bitterly into her jacket. It really is over, he thinks as he feels for his gun, his face still buried in Rachel's shoulder. He finds it and presses it to his temple, ready to squeeze the trigger the second her pulse comes to a stop, ready to follow her into the dark.

"Hello?"

His gaze jerks over to the direction of the radio, he knows that he's hearing things, that he's simply gone insane from exhaustion, malnutrition and now grief, but somehow he can't look away from it.

"Finn Hudson, do you read me?" the voice says again, it's a woman's voice, calm and steady but hard to hear beneath the static, and he grabs the radio frantically at the sound of it.

"Yes I'm here, I read you," he says, trying to keep his voice still.

"What is your position?"

"We're about ten miles North of DC, 423 Stinson place, in Bethesda I think," he says his voice still shaking almost uncontrollably.

"Hang tight Hudson we're coming for you," the voice on the radio says again.

"Who are you?" Finn says, as if it matters.

"Sergeant Lopez of the United states Army," She says. "Sergeant Santana Lopez."

**Yes I know that Karofsky is good now, and they're both gay (although Sebastian is a slut so perhaps anything goes?) let's just say that they've been through a lot since the world ended, it's AU right? Anyway, sorry for another cliffhanger. One chapter plus an epilogue to go! Stay tuned folks!**


	8. Safe Haven

He's in and out as the vehicle makes it way down the road, he wonders to himself how long it must have taken to clear it, every time he and Rachel thought about stealing a car the years of old traffic jams pushed the thought straight out of their minds. He wishes he knew what they were doing to Rachel, he looks over at her as he holds her hand tightly in his, he sees them cut her bloody shirt open and help her breath with some sort of plastic apparatus, and bark orders to each other in big words he can't understand. They work on him too, apparently the bullet did more than graze him, but he didn't think about that much at the time, now he considers words like severe blood loss and ruptured veins and he feels his body getting tired and weak . He tries to keep his eyes open, focused on Rachel, but they feel heavy and he knows he's not going to last long before passing out.

"Rachel, I… Rachel," he says incoherently before everything fades to black.

The room is bright, and white and sterile and he sees what he thinks is a light fixture overhead, a light fixture, he hasn't seen one of those in years, not a working one, he wonders where they got the electricity from, or if he's simply dreaming it. If he was dreaming he wouldn't be able to feel pain right? But he's never known pain so intense in all his life, he feels like his body was pushed through a meat grinder and haphazardly molded back together in a shape resembling something somewhat human. But he tries not to focus on it, Rachel must feel so much worse.

"Rachel!" he says, shooting up in bed even as his muscles scream for him to remain still. "Rachel! Sweetheart?"

"She's going to be fine, she's alright," and suddenly a young Asian man dressed in all white is beside him, trying to coax him back into bed. "I'm Dr. Chang, I know this must be confusing for you-

"Where is she?" Finn interrupts.

"She's in the next room," Dr. Chang says, his voice calm.

"I have to see her," Finn says, still struggling against him, trying to get out of bed. Finn's a big man, much bigger than the short, lithe young man at his bedside, and in healthier days he probably could have taken him easily, but in this state he's apprehended without much effort. "I need to see my wife," Finn repeats.

"You can barely stand," Dr. Chang insists. And he's right, after everything he's been through his body is pretty much useless, at least for now.

"I'll crawl if I have to," Finn says, once again ineffectually struggling against the smaller man.

"There's no need for that," the Dr. Chang says calmly. "We have a wheelchair."

Finn waits impatiently for him to bring in the wheelchair and push him into Rachel's room, and the sight of her so small in the bed, tubes protruding from her nose, hooked up to steadily beeping machines as she sleeps does little to put his mind at ease, but she's alive, and the young doctor said she was going to be okay so he allows himself to breath a quiet sigh of relief.

"She's heavily sedated," Dr. Chang says. "She was in bad shape, but we got her to the facility in time. She'll survive this, but it's not going to be an overnight recovery" He's relieved, even more so by the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes, and he reaches out for her hand, feeling warmth there for the first time in as long as he can remember.

"What exactly is the facility?" Finn says, curious in spite of himself, after five years of struggling to survive in the most unforgiving conditions, waking up in a warm bed in a place with electricity and medical care almost seems to good to be true.

"It's a community for survivors of the outbreak," Dr. Chang explains. "After the disaster it's believed that no more than 2 million people were left alive, an estimated 500,000 of those survivors are thought to be living across America, including the 21,000 who live here, what we do here is seek people out, give them a place to feel safe again."

"Just like that? No questions asked?"

"Hardly," Dr. Chang says. "We've learned over time what to look for, who might be a danger to us, but we found it doesn't come up as often as you think, most people are just grateful to have a place here, but we're always on the lookout for usurpers, sometimes when you live without order for so long it's easy to feel like you can run things better than the people in charge. There've been more than a few exiles since we began taking people in."

"That must be hard, kicking people out," Finn says.

"Sometimes it's necessary to keep our residents safe, but you are right, it never gets any easier. After about a year here my girlfriend was attacked in our home while I was on night duty, she'd gotten complacent, left the window open while she slept. Luckily Lopez was keeping watch and she stopped him before it was too late. Ever since then we've made new refugees undergo intensive psychological screenings."

"You have therapists here?"

"We have three, Dr. Pillsbury, Dr. Jones and Dr. Anderson were all therapists before the outbreak, actually Dr. Jones was a counselor at her Church, but she's had training since she arrived here," Dr. Chang explains. "Which reminds me, if you're going to stay here you'll be assigned a job, I know that your wife was a movie star before the outbreak, we never would have thought we'd get one of those any time soon, but what did you do?"

"I was a musician," he says sheepishly, knowing that's not exactly helpful to them. "But I worked my way through college as a mechanic."

"That's great, we could definitely use more mechanics, do you know anything about aircrafts?"

"A little," Finn says, shrugging. "This guy with a crop duster used to have an account with the garage I worked at."

"Well I'm sure whatever you don't know Burt Hummel can teach you," Dr. Chang says.

"Burt Hummel the congressman?" Finn says.

"Actually that would be Burt Hummel the president, but he doesn't really care for that label. after the outbreak he was the highest ranking Washington politician left alive. But this is no dictatorship, all of our residents have voting rights, Hummel, Schuester and Sylvester just keep order around here, you'll meet them all later."

"Wait a minute, you said something about aircrafts?" Finn says.

"Yes, our helicopter is one of our greatest assets," Dr. Chang explains, it allows us to gather supplies from all over the country if we need to, with our farm up and running we haven't needed it as much, but it's still a good thing to have. Why do you ask?"

"There's a couple in New York, they're waiting out the winter there and they have a baby an-

"Wait," Dr. Chang says, cutting him off. "Did you say a baby?"

"Yeah, a couple of months old I'm guessing."

"Where? Where are they?" Dr. Chang says, and he can tell by the urgency in his voice that babies are incredibly hard to come by around here.

"The Gershwin Theatre, they live in the attic," Finn explains.

"Listen Finn," do you think you'll be okay by yourself for a moment?"

"Yeah, I'm fine bu-

Dr. Chang doesn't let him finish before he's out of the room like lightning. At that Finn looks once again at Rachel. They had a farm, and Rachel always loved to garden, or maybe she could be a cook, and entertain refugees on the off hours, this could work, they could have a home here. And maybe he was just being overly optimistic, but they saved Rachel's life, they've already earned his trust, whether they'll keep it is another story, but for now he couldn't be more grateful to them. He grimaces in pain as he carefully gets up from his wheelchair, he wonders how long he was out, it feels like days, it's a struggle to get into the bed next to Rachel, but once he does he feels more at home than he has in years. He wants to take her into his arms but he doesn't want to hurt her, so he holds onto her hand instead.

"You were right princess," he says, not sure if she can hear him at all. "You were right about everything. We made it, we're going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay." He shuts his eyes then, somehow still exhausted after what felt like days of sleep.

He wakes up to the feeling of small fingers combing through his hair and a big smile reaches his face at the sight of her eyes, big and alert and alive, she's alive, he was so sure that he had lost her, so sure that it was hopeless, now hope fills his heart as they look at each other so tenderly.

"Hello sweetheart," she says, her voice weak, and his eyes overflow at that point, he's not sure why he's crying, he didn't think it was possible to be this happy.

"Hey princess," he says, and he brings her hand up to his mouth, kissing it firmly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, they gave me the good drugs," she says dreamily. "How about you? Are you alright?" she continues as her soft hand strokes the bristly hair on his jaw.

"I'm great thanks to you," he says. "You took a bullet for me Rachel."

"You would have done the same for me."

"Every time," he insists. "But I don't ever want to see you hurt like that again, not ever okay? Even if it means letting me die."

"You can't ask me to do that Finn," Rachel says. "I love you too much."

"But-

"Listen," she says, placing her finger to his lips. "Let's just hope that neither of us have to worry about that kind of thing anymore." And reluctantly he nods, and moves in to kiss her softly.

"I love you," he says in almost a whisper.

"I know, I love you too."

"Oh my god, I can't believe this, I owe Santana 12 credits."

At that they turn their heads toward the voice in front of the room, where two young men are now standing, one a fair skinned brunette with piercing blue eyes and an enthusiastic smile, the other a shorter, vaguely Eurasian looking man with curly black hair.

"It's Rachel freaking Berry," the fair skinned man says. "In the flesh."

"Um, hi," Rachel says weakly.

"We're sorry to bother you but I'm here to schedule your psychological screening and once I let it slip who I was analyzing Kurt over here insisted on coming along," The curly haired man says. "I'm Dr. Anderson but you can call me Blaine."

"Don't worry I won't be here for the actual screening, I just had to meet you, I'm a huge fan."

"I know you, you're Burt Hummel's son," Rachel says. "I can't believe you both survived."

"Oh my god Rachel Berry knows who I am," Kurt says excitedly. "And yeah, you'd be hard pressed to find more than one person in the same family to survive the virus, the immunity gene is so rare that two parents can have it and not pass it along to their offspring, that's why it's so difficult to procreate," Kurt's gleeful tone becomes somber at that point and a pang reaches Finn's chest at his words, confirming what they had always feared about their child. "But two family members both having the gene does happen, I mean, just look at you guys. Of course you're not related by blood but considering that you occupied the same household it would be like both of you winning the lottery."

"Yeah, we were really lucky," Finn says, squeezing Rachel's hand a little. "So, are you a scientist?"

"No, that would be doctor Abrams, although doctor is a little generous, he was a biology teacher but everyone likes to call themselves doctor around here, no offense Blaine."

"I actually _am_ a doctor," Blaine argues.

"You're a therapist that doesn't count," Kurt says snarkily. "And I'm a community organizer, it doesn't sound important but it is, I pretty much help keep things from going to hell around here."

"So Rachel, do you think you'll be good to go for tomorrow?" Blaine says.

"Sure," she answers, and Blaine begins to jot something down in his notepad.

"And Finn you'll be meeting with Dr. Jones, she should be by later."

"Now Mercedes definitely isn't a doctor," Kurt quips.

"Would you let it go?" Blaine shoots back. "She may as well be."

"Yeah but still…"

"I can assure you we're both perfectly sane," Rachel says. Well, sane is debatable but Finn certainly isn't interested in attacking anyone.

"That's pretty amazing considering what you've been through, did you really walk all the way here from the Adirondacks?" Blaine asks.

"Well, not all at once, " Finn says.

"That's the kind of stamina we can use around here," Kurt says. "We don't have an economy because there just isn't much use for one, but we're all expected to pull our own weight, it's how we keep this place running."

"We understand," Finn says.

"Okay, we know you've been through a lot so we're going to give you some space," Blaine says, and Kurt pouts a little but he follows Blaine out of the room.

"Okay, I like those two," Finn says.

"Yeah, me too," Rachel agrees. "I think we might actually be okay here."

He moves in closer and closes his eyes again, needing all of the sleep he can get before it's time to start their lives over. "I think you're right."

**Stay tuned for the epilogue folks!**


	9. Epilogue

**So sorry this took so long, especially since it's rather short as my epilogues tend to be. With Wondercon and not having a clue about how to end this story it just took a lot longer than I would have liked, but here it finally is, enjoy.**

_She's insane, that's the only explanation, nobody is this intense all of the time, not to mention demanding. He can't count the number of times she's lashed out at him over his drumming, which is crazy, he may not be the musical genius she is but he's an excellent drummer. But in spite of her crazy he doesn't hate her, not like the others do, there's something weirdly intriguing about Rachel Berry, and dare he say it, exciting. The way she performs with such passion, she could give him goosebumps singing the ABCs, and there was something kind of sexy about the way she never took anyone's shit, and as much as he hated to admit it, she made everyone better, the show wouldn't be nearly as good if it weren't for her being on everyone all the time. He would never say it out loud, but he had a bit of a soft spot for the crazy diva._

_It was a great performance, everybody loved her, he loved her, he didn't understand how she could be so amazing night after night, she was unstoppable, if the world were coming to an end he'd definitely want someone like her in his corner, even if she drove him crazy along the way, she'd keep him alive, she'd demand it._

"_Hey, I want to talk to you," he looks up at her, aside from removing her blonde wig she's still decked out in her 80's garb._

"_Me?" he says_

"_Yes you," she replies. "I know the average theatre goer may not appreciate the importance of a good percussionist but I know better, especially considering this is a rock and roll based play, and you know what they say about rock bands, a rock band is only as good as its drummer."_

"_I don't understand, am I in trouble?" he says confusedly._

"_Exactly the opposite," She says. "You did quite well tonight Finn, you're very talented, I should know I'm very talented too."_

_He can't help but smile a little at that. "Thanks."_

"_It's fortunate that I put so much effort into motivating you, a lesser star would have focused solely on her own performance, but I go above and beyond."_

"_Um yeah, I guess I got lucky," he says, not entirely jokingly._

"_So since I dedicated so much of my time to helping you reach your full potential I think it's only fair that you buy me dinner tonight, I'm a vegan, keep that in mind." At that she turns on her heel and marches off, presumably to go de-eighties herself._

"_Wait, did you just ask me out?" He says, stopping her in her tracks._

"_Aside from the asking part, yes," she says turning again to face him once more. "I'll meet you outside in thirty minutes, don't be late."_

"_Whatever you say princess," he says under his breath once she's out of earshot. "Whatever you say."_

He rubs his eyes roughly as he wakes up, his sleeping wife by his side, he hasn't been able to sleep through the night since the night he woke up to the sound of her throwing up in the bathroom. He still thinks about that day the virus killed their baby, and even with the experimental embryonic vaccine developed with the DNA of Beth Puckerman, the first known child born after the outbreak, he still worries, he can't help it. It's been three years since they arrived at the facility, and even though they know that things will never truly be back to the way they were, they finally feel safe again, and dare he say it, happy. Not too long ago he had nearly lost her, and the thought still haunts him every day. It's why he needs Rachel to be okay, he needs their baby to survive this. These days Rachel spends as much as half her time in the lab, she doesn't mind it, she wants to help in any way she can, and as the first woman to become pregnant at the facility, she's invaluable to their research. She's seven months along now, with no complications so far, he knows that's a good sign. Three years ago he told Rachel that he didn't know whether having a baby was the right thing, and right before he found out that she was pregnant he still wasn't sure, but seeing how happy Rachel was, how much she loved their baby already, he knew how he really felt, Rachel was meant to be a mother. He just needed to figure out how to be a good father, there was just so much to consider.

"Rachel, are you awake?" he says, shaking her gently.

"What's the matter Finn?" she says groggily. "Did you have a bad dream?"

"No, it was a good one," he says. "Remember opening night of _Rock of Ages_?"

"Yeah," she says, and he can hear her smile in her voice. "We had our first date that night, why do you ask?"

"Because," he starts. "I didn't know it at the time but I think it was the night I fell in love with you."

She turns in his arms, facing him, her swollen belly pressing against him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he says softly. "I just wonder sometimes you know, we had this completely different life before, what happens when our kid asks us about how we met? Or our first date or how we fell in love? What should we say?"

"We should tell the truth Finn," she says.

"Yeah but won't he or she-"

"He," she corrects, cutting him off, she's certain it's going to be a boy.

"Sorry, _he_, won't he feel like he's been cheated out of that life? A normal life?"

"He'll have a great life Finn," She assures him. "With two parents who love him more than anything and a safe place to play and learn and grow up, and eventually marry Beth."

"You've thought a lot about this haven't you?" he says teasingly.

"You have too, admit it."

"How can you tell?"

"Because, you started saying when instead of if whenever you talk about him" she says. "Now go to sleep sweetheart, we have a big day ahead of us."

"That's right, the anniversary celebration, I can taste Will Schuster's microbrew lager already."

"I was referring to our performance," she says, one thing that definitely hasn't changed is Rachel's obsessive need to put on a great show, and with her on vocals Finn on drums, Puck on guitar and Mike's wife Tina on keyboards they're sure to do just that. It's amazing how the simple pleasures in life like good music and good friends have been restored, maybe they were never really gone at all. Rachel was right, this really wasn't the worst existence to bring a baby into.

"I love you," he says, kissing her hair. "Goodnight princess."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

**That's all folks!**


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